


Creed and Clarice

by Moviemuncher



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Film)
Genre: CoH are asses, Gen, Poor Blink, mild violence and gore but not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6624493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moviemuncher/pseuds/Moviemuncher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creed saves a littke girl from two CoH pieces of scum. All he wanted was a nice walk in the park.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Victor is surprised by the little girl with vibrant pink hair. She was Asian, possibly, with emerald eyes and purple tattoo like markings over and under her eyes. Tiny, fragile. Hardly to his hip, at least six years old. She was odd-looking. 

It's the first time a child has ever caught his attention. She's alone. She's out of breath, breathing frantically and loud though her wide eyes and hand over her mouth suggest she's not trying to be. This is a national wildlife park, where were her parents? Then again, an obvious mutant child. 

He watches, she hasn't seen him. 

"Mutie!" he hears, as well as heavy footsteps. He'd been aware of them a while ago but they'd not been heading directly towards him, what did he care? Neither had the little girls lighter ones, she'd somehow changed location (like John?) and started this way. The heavy footed ones would head this way, once they heard her. Victor waits as the child flattens herself to the tree. 

The man and his companion burst through green into sight. Two caucasian males with blonde and brown hair. Tall, lean and tattooed. CoH logos on their exposed necks. Church of Humanity scum. Now, Victor didn't care about the mutant plight but there was a special place on his hit list reserved for assholes that put children's heads on a spike. Mutant or no. 

He readied himself, claws extending another two inches. Hooking, thin and sharp. He had been worried whilst young, if they would snap easily. But only a sharp blade and force could do that. Even hitting bone wouldn't bend them. 

First they look around as they trample through the grass and roots. Then one spots the terrified child with a gleeful shout and charges forwards. The tired child flings out her hand desperately, her face crushed with despair when nothing happened. Victor steps forwards, black coat trailing over tall blades of grass and shrubbery, none of it hinders him. 

"Leave her alone." 

It stops them all, frozen and staring at him. Each assess him, dark clothes, tall, thick frame and claws. His silver-grey eyes have strange amber flecks that are not quite visible in the filtered light. However, in the shade they make his eyes seem darker. Their fear varies, the child's fear deepens but her relief also causes her hands to drop and crash against the tree once his words are understood. He wonders if she's a tourist with limited English as it took her a moment. Anger dilutes the mens fears. 

"What's it to you freak?" one asks, drawing a switchblade. It's a DIY tool. Not even a thick blade. Fatal in the right place, annoyance elsewhere. For him it's nothing. A scratch. He's so used to the pain of shallow stabbings and scratches that it hardly bothers him. A grimace at most. He barely even yells at a bullet anymore. The cannon ball to the chest had been roar-worthy but crushed lungs had cut the noise away. 

"To me? Nothing. For you it will mean your life." he says idly. The little girl steps cautiously in his direction, she's still closer to the two men than him so he takes that incentive to step closer. It causes the unarmed man to lean away whilst the other tenses for an attack. Victor doesn't want the girl to see what he'll do to them. The only reason they've been given a chance to walk away.

He almost hopes they'll take it. 

"Fuck off" the man with the knife says dismissively, knife held firmly and securely. Victor leapt forwards, crossing the seven feet with a single bound and swiped his claws across the hand holding the knife. The knife fell as the man yelled, clutching at his torn skin. Victor smiled at him, showing his teeth. Suddenly a loud bang filled his ears, the other had reluctantly pulled a gun. Then a purple, liquid like shape was flung in front of him, expanding and he could see a different section of forest entirely. A portal. So not quite like John. The little girl. He offers her a sharp grin. And slashes his claws through the first-man's stomach. Deep enough to be serious but survivable if he moved fast. Of course, he was unlikely to do that any time soon. 

Victor moved to the next man with a grin, the portal having condensed and disappeared. The man shrieked as he frantically raised the gun again. The hot end of the barrel burned as it hit his t-shirt under the coat. It fired again as the girl screamed and Victor dug both sets of claws into the man's ribs. He sliced through intercostal muscles with ease. The girls grossed out whimper actually had his claws retracting before he realised what he was doing. 

With a slight growl he lengthened them again but tore them out. The mans ability to breathe was minimalised. Wheezily and with agonised grunts he staggered away. The gun was limp in his hand and a swift kick knocked it away. Victor grinned at the men. 

"A pleasure."

He turned to the girl who looked mostly terrified (smart) but also grateful (very smart). There was a lingering disgust in her pinched brows. 

"Where are your parents?" He asked. Best to get her home if they were about. The girl looked forlorn. 

"They don't want me. I lived in an orphanage. They saw me in the street." She nodded to the assholes. 

"They chased me here."

It was deep in the park. From any entrance, you'd have to travel two miles to get here. It would explain why she was badly winded.

"I'll take you home." He said and gestured with his bloody hand for her to come closer. With a mild, almost embarrassed, grimace she did as bid. He kicked the first idiot on his way past their prone and bleeding bodies. His boot caught the man's side, close to his torn skin. The man shrieked in pain as the girk gave the downed man a wide berth. They'd reached the streets before Creed asked the kid a question. 

"What's your name then?"

"Clarice Ferguson. Sometimes I call myself Blink." The last part was said very shyly, her whole body screaming "meek" and "don't hurt me". 

"Victor Creed. Some people call me Sabretooth." 

"Like the tiger?" She asked, fascinated but still quiet. If it weren't for his hearing he'd have to ask her to speak up.

"Probably." He said. It sounded right. 

They stopped outside a three storey house. It was large, had red bricks but looked depressing. The girl's face said exactly what he thought. A shithole.

He looked at the tyke, then the building. Cheap, thin windows and ratty blinds. Not a single toy in the overgrown garden. 

She was very thin, he thought. He'd been a thin child, as had Jimmy though mostly due to illness and hunger. 

"You hungry?" He asked. 

"Do I need to kill my food?" She asked, nose wrinkling as she looked at his claws. He chuckled. 

"Nope."

"I am hungry, yeah." She answered simply. 

"Good, me too."


	2. Additional scene.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My sister was my test audience and she wanted me to imclude this. So I have. Cute dinner scene.

Turned out the kid could eat. Blink put away a cheeseburger and fries quicker than he ate his 12oz steak and fries with fried onions and mushrooms. He went for a bottled Budweiser and she had a Coke. 

Once she'd come to the realisation she couldn't pay for herself she'd shame-facedly told him so. He'd snorted and told her he'd never expected her to do so. It was on him. It was a nasty shock to hear a tiny thing like her was already expected to pay her own way. 

It was quiet, content and Creed surprised himself with the revelation that the little girl was alright. He didn't mind her presence which was far more than he could say for everyone else. Even Jimmy. Nine years on from Three Mile Island and the runt had disappeared. Seemed intent on making sure they were done. 

Never mind the runt though, he made his bed.

"How old are you kid?" He asks. 

"Six and a third" she told him proudly as kids do. He snorted, amused. 

"That right?" He huffed rhetorically. 

"Mhm, how old are you mister?"

"Victor, my name is Victor like I told ya." He corrected. "And I stopped counting. 1980's, about a hundred and fifty." 

"Wow, really? You don't look that old. Did you get plastic surgery like all them celebrities?"

He nearly choked on his beer. 

"No. Healing factor slows my aging."   
Points for making him laugh. 

She nodded solemnly. 

"What do you do for work?"

"I was a soldier." If the mangled version of it was even called that. 

"That's so cool. I want to be a soldier when I grow up. Like you and I'll save people like me too."

Huh. 

Fuck it, he'd keep the kid.

**Author's Note:**

> May tie it into my Keep Talking series starring Victor and Wade. May stay a one-off though.


End file.
